


Dropping Eaves

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Masturbation, Mutual Attraction, Sex, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-11-04 13:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Originally written for a challenge about six billion years ago, now updated! A hunt leads to an embarrassing incident, which might end up having some great consequences that are pretty much an ode to Sam Winchester’s junk.





	Dropping Eaves

The thing was six foot if not more, made up of tentacles, slime, stinking lake water and teeth that snapped too close to your vital parts for your liking. You struggled fiercely against the monster above you, feeling the gooey appendages wrap around your throat as the swamp creature overpowered you. 

"S-am." 

The gasp you managed to get out was met with a sloppy sounding growl from the monster, and you closed your eyes, hearing a gun cock behind the beast.

A snarl left it, slime spattering over your face just as the silver bullet pierced it’s hide, shattering the casing around it’s heart. The creature exploded with a screech and a sickening wet noise, and you felt something viscous cover you from head to toe.

It _burned_.

"Y/N?" Sam’s voice made you open your eyes; you scrambled to your feet, slime coating your skin. The other hunter towered over you in concern, and you yelped as the acidic goo started to eat away at your clothes. "Shit, what is that?”

"The swamp monster!" You shuddered, feeling your skin itching like a thousand mosquitoes were on you. "Jeez, it fucking burns, Sam." Sam looked around, panicking, before pointing at the lake behind you, where the foul animal had come from. "I’m not jumping in there!”

He didn’t argue, not with words anyway. Raising his huge hands, he shoved you hard, sending you stumbling back into the water. Most of your clothing had been eaten away, aside from strategically placed pieces of cloth, which saved you most of your dignity when you fell backwards into the water with a scream.

Instantly, the burning sensation disappeared, along with the last pieces of your clothing and, regrettably, the majority of your sneakers. For once, you’d forgone boots in the summer heat and now, you were paying the price. You kicked to the surface with a gasp, regaining your breath and scowling at Sam, stood giggling like a giant manchild at the edge of the water.

"That was _not_ funny," you seethed through chattering teeth.

"You’re alive aren’t you?" Sam’s response was playful, and the smile on his face didn’t lessen as he watched you. You shivered in the freezing water, covering your chest with your hands as his smile started to fade. "Are you coming out? Or are you intent on hypothermia?”

"I - I can’t." The shudders rattling your bones grew stronger as the icy water seemed to grow colder. "G - goo ate my c - clothes."

"All our stuff is at the motel." He frowned, looking down at his own clothes. Without hesitating, he stripped off his shirt, not noticing the way your jaw dropped as he showcased his ridiculous sculpted chest and abdominal muscles that seemed to flex when he moved to hook the shirt over a bush. "I’ll leave this here, and you can, er, cover yourself."

You raised an eyebrow. "You’re only wearing one layer?”

Sam shrugged. "It’s June. It’s hot. I don’t always wear that many layers." Your eyebrow raised higher. "I can take the shirt back, you know."

Instantly, you shook your head. "No. I’m just playing."

He smirked, pointing to a thick trunk about ten meters away. "I’ll go wait behind that tree. Promise I won’t look." You watched him walk away, waiting until he was out of sight, taking a breath. Mud swirled around your toes and you suddenly panicked there might have been more than swamp monsters in the lake. Scrambling forward, you hoisted yourself up the bank, groaning as you slipped a little. "You okay?" Sam called - you stood straight, seeing one muscular arm emerge from behind the tree.

"I’m good! You can stay there!" You rushed for the shirt, quickly dragging it over your bare arms and chest to conceal your nudity. It made you feel a little better, and it helped that Sam was a gazillion feet tall, so the shirt hung down to your knees. Except you were still wet, and now muddy to boot.

This day sucked.

"Everything good?" Sam asked, and you sighed.

"It’s been better but you can’t see my boobs now at least." You wrapped your arms around your chest, the long sleeves falling over your hands as Sam emerged from behind the tree.

"You look like you could use a warm shower and a shot of whiskey,” he pointed out, and you tried not to stare at the way his pecs wiggled when he walked. Swallowing down the thick pool of arousal blossoming between your thighs, currently encased in Sam’s shirt, you smiled.

"Try a bottle."

* * *

The drive back to the motel was uncomfortable, not in the least for the fact that your thighs kept sticking to the leather seats. Having Sam sat next to you, with no top on, was not helping matters, and you didn’t want to explain any odd stains to Dean when you returned to the bunker.

Before Sam had even turned the engine off in the parking lot, you were out of the car, trying not to flash your ass to the world as you sprinted to the door. The sense of despair you felt when you remembered Sam had the key was almost overwhelming, as the smirking hunter took longer than necessary to climb out of the Impala and walk over to your door.

"Really?"

"What? You look like a Saturday night's debauchery. I only wish I had a camera." He laughed when you swung a fist at him, succeeding in hitting him with the cuff of his plaid shirt, rather than anything significant. "Come on, grumpy." You pushed past him the second he unlocked the door, grabbing your duffel and heading to the bathroom, slamming the door as soon as you were inside.

Thirty minutes later, you were clean of any lingering goo, the mud and lake water washed away from your skin and hair; you felt refreshed and far less grumpy. Slipping into a big fluffy towel, you rummaged through the duffel for your clothes, only for Sam to bang on the door.

"Y/N? Are you done? I’m kinda bustin’ here, sweetheart."

"Bustin’? Bustin’ what? A move?" You giggled at your own joke and Sam groaned.

"Very funny. Can you just let me in?"

"Fine," you grunted, making sure the towel was tight around your bare body before opening the door. Sam was right outside the door as you giggled, slipping past him. "Sorry. Were you desperate?" He narrowed his eyes and pushed into the bathroom, shutting the door.

As you stood in the main room of the motel, you cursed at the realisation that you’d left your duffel bag next to the shower. You could hear Sam moving around, and hoped he wouldn’t take too long to empty the tank, your prayers answered as the toilet flushed.

"Hey, I’m gonna get a shower. Mind if I use some of your shower gel? I think I forgot mine." He talked as he left the bathroom, looking up as you stood in just your towel, wet hair over one shoulder and one hand on your hip.

"You sure you don’t wanna use it because you wanna smell pretty?"

Sam stuck his tongue out. "Would you rather share a car with someone who smells like swamp monster and lake water?" He paused. "Oh wait, that was you."

"Shut up."

"Nice comeback."

"Are you done?" you asked, marching past him towards the bathroom. "I’m gonna get dressed. Then you can use my shower gel and clean yourself up." He chuckled, bending down to pick up his bag. "Oh, and Sam?" He looked up, his jaw dropping almost as quickly as your towel hit the floor, letting him get a look at your fully naked body for a split second before shutting the door with a laugh.

* * *

Sam hadn’t said anything when you came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, fully dressed and smirking. He’d taken himself away, locking the door audibly as you threw yourself on the bed, looking for the TV remote as Sam turned the shower on.

There was nothing on television, and you turned the box off as quickly as you’d turned it on, relaxing on the bed. It had started to rain outside, and you listened to the sound of the water hitting the window. A new sound caught your attention, and you frowned, listening harder.

A moan.

From the bathroom.

"Sam?" You kept your voice quiet, sliding from the bed as another moan sounded from the bathroom. "Sam, are you okay?" He didn’t reply, and you approached the door, pressing your ear to it as he moaned again, and this time, it was distinctly _not_ a hurt sound.

It was more like he was moaning your name.

You kept listening, hearing his tight gasp, and your mind started to conjure a thousand filthy images. Sam’s thick, muscled body covered in suds, water running down into the dip of his chest, trickling into the v-lines that led to his groin. One large hand wrapped around his huge cock, stroking himself as he moaned _your fucking name_ into the shower tiles, the other hand holding him up while the water cascaded over him. A drop of water lingering on the end of his nose, landing on the knuckle of his thumb as he jerked off...

Sam moaned again, and you had to bite back a mirroring sound.

"Fuck, Y/N." His voice was strained and you felt your pussy clench in response. "Look so fucking hot, wearing nothing but my shirt. Got me so hard driving back, inches away from me and I couldn’t fucking touch you." You shuddered, your entire body heating up a thousand degrees. "Wish I had the guts to reach over, run my hand up your thigh...fuck, I bet you got the sweetest little pussy."

You groaned, unbuttoning your own pants to slip your hand inside. Your fingers slicked through your wet folds easily and you sunk your teeth into your lip so you didn’t cry out. Sam gave a loud grunt, and a slapping noise followed, like his hand on the tile.

"God, just thinking about you, naked, so fucking close, makes me wonder what you’d feel like underneath me, all that slick skin - I’m such a fucking pussy. Just wanna touch you and make you scream my name -" 

His words dissolved into a long, drawn out groan and you knew he was coming. Pulling your hand out of your pants, you moved away from the door, hearing the shower turn off.

You’d just about calmed your breathing when the door opened and Sam stepped out, a towel around his waist, and his skin flushed from the heat of the shower, and possibly from the amount of effort he’d put into jerking off.

He looked between you and the television, frowning. "Thought I heard you turn that on."

"There was…" God, your voice needed to stop shaking. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. "Nothing on?"

His eyes were wide, and he shuffled a little uncomfortably. "You heard...you heard me, didn’t you?" You nodded, cheeks flushing bright red as you looked down at your own knees. "Fuck."

"It’s okay," you whispered. "It’s kinda...flattering."

Sam didn’t say anything for a long, and extremely awkward moment. 

A sigh left his throat. "No need for this then."

His towel dropped, in much the same fashion as you’d teased him by dropping yours earlier, and again, in the same fashion, your jaw dropped. You’d always guessed - and imagined - that Sam was..._hung_... but you’d never quite imagined _that_.

His awkwardness was surrendered to pure swagger, and he walked towards you, his cock hardening almost proudly as he came closer, and you whimpered in a pathetic manner. "So, you were listening. What were you thinking?" You swallowed as he knelt on the bottom of the bed, smirking at you. "Thinking about touching yourself, baby? Thinking about me touching you?"

"Yes," you rasped, nodding, unable to take your eyes off of his stunning physique.

Sam crawled closer, stalking you on all fours like a carnivore. 

Fuck, he could _totally_ eat you if he wanted to.

"Was that car ride as _hard_ for you as it was for me?" he asked; you nodded, almost panting at his proximity. Sam chuckled. "I thought about stopping. About pushing you down on that seat and feasting on you. You know how many nights I’ve jerked off thinking of you, Y/N? How many times I’ve fantasized about having your body underneath mine? You walk around, goddamn hottest woman I’ve ever seen, and I can’t think straight with all these filthy thoughts ..."

You sucked in a breath when he lowered his mouth to kiss your belly where your shirt had ridden up.

"Tell me you want this, Y/N. Tell me I can make you mine."

Your eyes fluttered closed as desire pulsed through you. "Yes, Sam...fuck...please..."

You didn’t have to say it twice - Sam dragged your pants down your legs, throwing them to the floor with your panties still bunched inside, wasting no time in stripping your shirt almost violently. He seized you, holding you flush against his hard body, his cock prodding your thigh as he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

"Feel like I’ve wasted so much time," he muttered, breaking away, and you smiled a little shyly.

"Then make up for it."

Sam growled, sounding almost feral, before nudging your legs apart with one knee, the fingers of one hand curling into your still-damp hair as the other moved over your torso to seek out your core. The first touch of his fingertips on your slick folds made you gasp and arch up into him, the almost instant pleasure compounded by his lips suckling at one rock hard nipple. You could do nothing but whimper as he held you tightly, captive under his significantly larger frame, his fingers and mouth playing you like an instrument.

And the sounds you made were music to his ears.

"You gonna come on my fingers?" It seemed more than an order than a question, but you nodded anyway, moaning loudly as he sank two thick digits into your warmth, curling them to seek out the spots he planned on knowing by heart. "Fuck, you’re so wet, baby."

"Puh - please, Sam." You sounded pathetically strung out, but he was so good at this, already you were singing for him with barely a touch. "Need...need to come..." Panted words dissolved into a drawn out cry as Sam used his thumb to stimulate your clit, his two fingers scissoring inside your body. In under a minute, you were spasming around him, his body pinning yours down, rendering you unable to escape the pleasurable torment he was putting you through.

"I was in there,” his mouth was right by your ear but the words sounded so far away, "thinking about how I’d love to have you wrapped around my cock. Trying to imagine how you’d sound, how you’d feel. How many times I could make you come. How my name would sound on your lips." Sam chuckled, sucking at the spot below your ear as you kept shuddering underneath him. His cockhead brushed against your entrance as he removed his fingers from your body. "I couldn’t have imagined it being this perfect."

He lined up as you moaned his name, thrusting home with one hard stroke. His cock was thicker, longer than any you’d had before, but it didn’t hurt. If anything, it ruined you for other men in the best way possible. Sam seemed to know it too, holding you close as his hips pressed into your thighs with a bruising force.

"Sam...oh...you...you need to..."

"Need to what, baby?" He dragged his teeth over your collarbone, making you shiver around him.

"Need to move." You opened your eyes, focusing on his dark hazel gaze. "Please, Sam -" He waited and you gasped loudly as his cock twitched impatiently. "Fuck me!"

Sam smiled, swallowing down your words with a deep kiss, his tongue pressing against yours with urgency as he pulled his hips back, his cock almost completely withdrawn from your slick channel before he slammed back in. The tip hit your cervix with blinding accuracy; you thought it should be painful but it only increased the pleasure as he dragged back again, repeating the motion.

Rain continued to hit the window outside the motel, but all you could hear was the wet sound of your bodies colliding, shared moans and whimpers echoing through the room as your fingers clung to his sweat soaked back. He wasn’t slowing or stopping, drawing out every little ounce of pleasure he could. Your hair, which had been previously damp from the shower, was plastered to your forehead through sweat as Sam kept talking dirty to you, telling you all the nasty little dreams he’d had since he’d met you.

"First time I dreamed of you was after that werewolf hunt? You remember? You got caught in the middle, and fuck, I could have ripped that thing apart. Just want to touch you everywhere and make sure you weren’t hurt."

His fingers were in your hair, his lips tasting as much of your skin as he could reach, and you climaxed around him again, his pleased moans vibrating against your flesh.

"And when you had to flirt with that stupid bartender to get the info we wanted - took everything I had not to lay claim to you and fuck you over that bar."

"Sam, please, I can’t..."

"Can’t what?"

"I need..."

You didn’t even know what you needed. All you knew was that you could die right here, in Sam’s arms, his body and scent surrounding you, touching you and you’d die fucking happy.

Sam groaned, tugging at your nipple with his teeth. "Tell me,” he urged.

"Sam, I’m yours, fuck, please, I need, I _need_ to feel you..."

"Feel me what?" he asked, focusing his lust-blown eyes on yours. "You need to feel me cum? Want me to fill up that tight little pussy?" Your reply wouldn’t have been coherent even if it hadn’t been drowned out by a cry of passion that you failed to hold back. Sam grunted, nodding in response, pushing up on his arms to slam into you over…

... and over 

… and over

… he went rigid, groaning loudly. His shaft swelled and pulsed inside you, and he growled your name, the force of his climax buckling his arms. Dropping down, he curled his body around yours, his spendings seeping out around the sides of his thick length as your body went lax.

Both of you were panting, and Sam made no move to pull away, kissing you softly as the both of you slowly came down.

"I’m in love with you," he mumbled shakily, almost as if fear was taking hold of him. His lips were still pressed against yours; you could feel the steady thump of his heart through your skin. Reaching one hand up, you smiled, dragging your thumb over his cheek.

"Well, that kinda works out,” you whispered. “I’m in love with you too."


End file.
